


Breathe Easy

by mggislife2789



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Asphyxiation, Gen, Nasal Cannula, Oxygen Tank, suffocation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 12:16:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9123244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mggislife2789/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry ;)





	

“I’m so sorry,” you said, watching as Derek struggled with the bulky wires of your oxygen tank. You were used to it after 26 years, but you always felt as if you were a burden to those around you. Born three months premature, your lungs were underdeveloped and since you were a baby, you suffered from breathing problems. Recently, but not surprisingly, you were diagnosed with emphysema or COPD, which tended to develop in those that were born prematurely. It’s not that Derek was having trouble lifting it, he was a strapping, built Greek God after all, but the wires and tubes for the nasal cannula made things bulky, so he was struggling to get it up the stairs of the jet. Someone on the team was always nice enough to lift it onto the jet for you whenever you needed to consult on a case for them.

“Y/N,” Derek said exasperated. You went through this every time. “It’s no problem at all. I promise.”

“You’ve been consulting for us for four years,” Hotch said, as you sat down and inserted the tubes into your nose. “Don’t you know by now that we’d do anything for you.”

“I should,” you admitted, feeling the sweet relief of the oxygen flowing into your body. “But for some reason I always feel like a burden with this damn thing. Even to my parents.”

JJ patted your shoulder as she took her seat. “You’ve had it your entire life, right?”

You shook your head. Unfortunately, yes - that was the case. As a child it was used much more infrequently, but now you used it on and off all day long. Only in sedentary moments did you take it off to allow your nose time without obstruction - although at this point, the cannula just seemed like an extension of your nose.

“Then it’s nothing you can control and you shouldn’t feel bad about it,” she said lovingly. “It’s a part of you and we love you just as you are.”

You laughed. Despite the vulnerability you literally carried with you, you were loud and obnoxious. “Even with my sailor mouth?”

“Even with your sailor mouth,” Emily said, “which I happen to love.” She high-fived you as you set the oxygen tank up for the flight. Because of the altitude, you were forced to use it the entire time.

\------------------

After landing and heading to the station where everyone introduced themselves, you headed to the most recent crime scene, from just three hours before, with Spencer, Emily and your oxygen tank, which you lovingly called “Merry” (for the company name Meret) in tow. As a psychological consultant, the team had asked you to accompany them for this case as it was particularly unique.

When you walked onto the crime scene, you got quite a few looks from the local officers, wondering why someone so seemingly vulnerable was working as an FBI Agent. But you ignored it. You couldn’t be a full-fledged, out-in-the-field agent because of your condition, but you worked your ass off and deserved the position you had - judgement be damned.

The victims of this particular unsub were all over the place. Men, women, old young, black, white, Hispanic; they were from all walks of life. It didn’t matter to the unsub. The only thing that linked them right now was the brutal way in which they were killed - crushed beneath furniture of some kind after being incapacitated by a paralytic drug. Their lungs would burn and split until they could no longer breathe. It was your worst nightmare; you could only imagine how these victims - 7 so far - felt in their final moments.

“I can’t even imagine,” you whispered, subconsciously clutching your chest. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw what looked like a small piece of plastic on the floor, but it had no business being there, so you walked over to check it out.

“Something like that had been found on quite a few of the crime scenes over the past couple of weeks,” Emily said, poking it with her gloved hand. “It was never found on the first look though, and it’s so small that we can’t really figure out what it is.”

As you examined the small piece of plastic looking material, you noticed it wasn’t in the shape it was supposed to be. It had been crushed, probably during an altercation with the unsub. “I know what this is,” you said, pulling the cannula out of your nose. “It’s a piece of tubing, like mine. It looks like it was ripped from the victims nose with such force that is was torn and crushed. The unsub is targeting people like me.”

\------------------

When you got back to the station, you told everyone else about the connection between your victims. “I’m wondering if I should go home,” you said, not wanting to have to be babysat by anyone else. You knew that’s exactly what they would do, because they loved you, but you still hated it. “I would probably be less of a burden if I could Skype with you. At least that way, if the unsub gets wind of my condition, they wouldn’t be able to get to me.”

Hotch looked pained, like he didn’t want to say that it was probably a good idea. Again, you hated being a burden, and if someone on the team had to be with you at all times, that meant that it would take longer to gather all of the information necessary for the profile. Babysitting you and protecting you took time that they just couldn’t spare for this case. The unsub had killed seven victims in two weeks and showed no signs of slowing down. “Are you sure?” he asked, thankful you had suggested it yourself.

Everyone else was shaking their heads. They wanted you to stay - no one had any issues helping you, but you wanted them to be able to focus. You were a burden if you stayed, you wouldn’t be if you helped through Skype. The choice was obvious. “Yea, I’m sure,” you said, giving yourself an extra little burst of oxygen. You hadn’t realized how little you’d breathed at the crime scene. The tightness in your chest was unbearable. “You guys need to keep your heads on the case, and if you’re worrying about me, you won’t be.”

“Okay, Y/N,” Rossi said, patting you on the back. “But one of us is going to escort you back to the jet, just in case this whack job already knows about you somehow.”

“Deal,” you replied. You weren’t a burden in general, but in this unique case, you would be if you stayed. You were glad to know your own limitations - but it still sucked.

Hotch sighed, hating that this unsub was targeting people that were specifically like you. If it was any other case, you would’ve been there the entire time. “Okay. Get home safe, Y/N. JJ, why don’t you take her back to the jet?”

“Will do,” she replied.

And you were on your way. You could breathe a little easier.

\------------------

On the way back to the jet, you got quiet, feeling like even taking you back to the airport was a burden.

“You are NOT a burden,” JJ insisted, knowing exactly what you were thinking.

You took a deep breath and sighed, “Even this is taking your attention away from the case.”

“It’s not a big deal,” JJ responded, lifting up the tank and walking you onto the plane. “Plus, without you, we wouldn’t have found the connection between the victims. Because you were here, you probably saved quite a few more lives than we would have otherwise. You’re indispensable. Never forget that.”


End file.
